


Fragile, Handle With Care

by LouisianaPurrchase



Series: Bad End [8]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: )))))):, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jake wants off the fuck train, No Smut, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Whump, poor jake, really really sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21708112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouisianaPurrchase/pseuds/LouisianaPurrchase
Summary: The Survivors realize what’s been happening to Jake.“Steve squared his hands into fists and tried not to vomit, but there was blood on the ground and something else, sticking to Jake’s face, something that wasn’t tears either.”
Series: Bad End [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1408780
Comments: 8
Kudos: 102





	Fragile, Handle With Care

**Author's Note:**

> Referenced Rape/Non-con from previous works, but no actual stuff ™ happens in this one. Just good ol’ whump. Figured it was better safe than sorry with the uhh warnin’ though

The air at the campfire could best be described as somber. The last Trial, the one against the Doctor, it had been nearly perfect. Too perfect. The Killer hadn't hooked a single person, had barely even been seen except in snatches at the beginning, not at all at the end. Claudette and Dwight had gotten out, but not David, not Jake. And the knowledge that Jake hadn't gotten out had sent a shot of terror through one Survivor in particular: Steve. 

"He's not here?" Steve asked, almost desperate, "You're sure?"

Dwight nodded. He had a guilty look to him, but confused too. If Jake hadn't come back, that meant he had been sacrificed, which meant he would come back eventually- it was awful that Dwight had started to think of dying as 'fine', but that was the truth now. He didn't understand why Steve looked so frantic.

"What's wrong?" Claudette's voice was low and uncertain, and Steve spun around to her, his eyes wide and fearful.

"I- last Trial, Jake-" and then Steve couldn't find the words, he couldn't figure out how to say, something bad happened to him- I think something awful happened to him. Jake hadn't said anything, but it was in his eyes when he returned. Despair. Steve tried again, “The Legion- I, he had Jake, and...” and then he trailed off. How Frank had grabbed Jake, how Steve had sworn he’d seen a leer in the Killer’s stance, how terrified Jake had been when the window has cinched around him- and the Killer, looming behind, petting Jake and laughing. The words just wouldn’t come out.

"He'll be fine," Meg called from somewhere on the other side of the campfire, where she was wrapping her hands for the next Trial. Something she'd normally do with David, but he hadn't come back either, and... Meg narrowed her eyes, an uncertain quirk to her eyebrows, "David's with him. He'll be fine." She said the words like she hoped she'd believe them too.

Steve made noises like he wanted to protest more, but then there was the sight of shadows emerging from the Fog, and Steve was rushing forward before he realized it, calling, "Jake? David?"

David stepped out first. But his face was horribly grim, and with his arm, he was supporting Jake entirely. Jake, who's face was closed off and almost empty, except for the tears. Red rimmed eyes and sobs that occasionally escaped him, things he couldn't stop. Blood was staining his body, but something else was on his face, something that wasn’t tears. Claudette's hands went up to cover her mouth, her expression falling, and Dwight took steps behind her, his face shocked and scared. Faintly, the rest of the Survivors at the campfire made noises of surprise or horror, but Steve ignored them all, rushing forward.

"What happened?" he tried. It wasn't a demand, it was too desperate for that, and he was helping from the other side to support Jake. David's expression- it was grim finality. It was rage, wrapped tight, and steel. 

"Claudette, take 'em," David ignored the question, focusing instead on bringing Jake over to the medic, "Careful now, mind the leg, careful," and set Jake down. Jake, however, was gripping almost desperately to David.

"No- please, don't leave me," Jake begged, "I'm sorry, please, not again, no- no-"

The normally stoic man, sent into such desperate hysterics, made everyone deeply uneasy. Even Bill, who was sitting with Dwight now, had a face of discomfort. He turned away, like giving them some privacy. Dwight, though, had no such reservations. He just kept staring, clearly horrified, and maybe he recognized what had happened, or maybe he didn't, but he still stood up and had to go to the oppposite edge of the clearing, his face pale, clutching his mouth. 

"'S okay, shh, it's fine," David soothed as best he could, leaning down with Jake, "I'm 'ere, I won't go, he won't hurt you." 

”It hurts- it hurts, I’m sorry, please-“

”Shh, I’ve got you, you’re safe. He won’t hurt you again. Shh.”

They were promises that David wasn't sure he could keep, but he knew he would die before he broke them. The sight of his friend sobbing with despair made Steve's stomach twist, and he tried to clear his throat, but it felt too tight, closed off.

"Jake-" Steve began, then stopped, trying to find his voice, "Jake, you're safe now."

Jake's quiet keens paused for only a moment, looking up, like he was seeing Steve for the first time. 

"Steve?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Jake made a wet inhale, his grip on David lessening for the moment, letting Claudette quietly begin looking at his leg, "You- you're safe?" and he sounded- fragile, “The Legion- you’re safe? You got out?”

Steve swallowed, "I'm good, see?" a shaky smile- that had been Trials ago, but Jake’s mind seemed scrambled, and it made Steve’s heart break. Jake's head lowered.

"I'm sorry I couldn't- I didn't- no one came, no one came-" quiet sobs, breaking the words, remembering fingers spreading him open, tearing him apart, laughter, “No one came- it hurt- it hurts-“

Steve didn't know what that meant, and he didn't have a moment to ask, because then Jake let out a terrified scream.

It wasn't the kind of scream like getting slashed across the back, or getting a mouthful of stifling gas, but a scream of instinctive terror. Jake bucked back, slamming into the log and then curling immediately into a ball, tiny and terrified and absolutely trembling. David was crouched down over him, like some kind of shield, staring at Claudette with a dawning comprehension and fear. Because, Claudette's hand had touched near Jake's inner thigh, to test for broken bones in that area. The inner thigh. She blinked too, and then her expression shuttered, and she had to turn away.

"Oh, god..." she whispered. Meg was there, trying to comfort, but Steve was watching with the gaze of realization too. Listening to Jake's sobs. Begging sounds.

"No, no- no- no more, please- I'm sorry-"

The last Trial, when Jake hadn't returned. When he had come back far too late, with a dead expression. Steve understood now. Understood why his friend was curled into a ball, trying to protect himself, make himself small. Why David was reassuring him, trying to act like a protective shield. Why Dwight was throwing up and Bill had closed his eyes and Meg was looking at Claudette with understanding horror. Even Feng- Feng, who laughed at people 'being mushy', who mocked Killers, who had a running bet with Ace and Nea about number of flashlight blinds- even she was looking away and curling her hands into fists.

And Steve could only stand there. He felt- he felt useless. Worse than useless. He felt like he'd failed his friend. He could only imagine how Claudette and Dwight felt, when they'd been the ones in the Trial too. Hadn't noticed. Hadn't heard. Abruptly, Steve spun around and went to the only person that he felt would be grounded in this situation: Nea. But even her normally stoic face was torn. She was facing the other way when Steve finally stopped.

"Nea-" 

"What is it, Harrington?" her voice was a careful drawl. Carefully held together, by duck tape and will. Not cracking at the edges. Not when someone else could see. But they could still hear Jake from here, still hear his pathetic keens and sobs, dying off. Steve squared his jaw.

"Please go with him next Trial."

Nea stiffened, and her voice was almost soft, "Why?"

Steve didn't say. They both knew. She gripped the flashlight in her hands, the one she always seemed to have nearby, and like a nervous habit, she flicked it, on and off.

"Fine. Fine, I will," and it was as much of a promise as they could make. Wordless in some ways. I'll go with him, I'll try to keep him safe, I'll try to protect him.

It was as strong of a promise as they could make.

And Steve would go after this to ask Jeff too, to ask the others, one by one, to look after Jake. To- to not let this happen again, please don't let this happen again. If it did, Steve wasn't sure how much Jake had left in himself, before he'd shatter. And if Jake shattered, then it would only be a matter of time before everyone else would break too.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor baby Jake. Why do I do this? I think I need a priest, or the Pope. 
> 
> As always, shoot your suggestions and ideas for what should happen to Jake down below. They warm my heart, and ruin his.


End file.
